


Fairy Tail

by Bookah



Series: Foolish Frickin Fantasy! Erotic fantasies from out of this world [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M, Fairy, Fantasy, Prostitution, Sex, Sexual Humor, Smut, wtf just happened
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-11
Updated: 2018-06-11
Packaged: 2019-05-20 21:51:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14902689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bookah/pseuds/Bookah
Summary: He's a human mercenary who has seen too much to trust people's boasts. She's a woman of the night who is a mere one foot tall. There is just no way he's really going to get himself some fairy tail, right? A fantasy fiction erotica that doesn't take itself seriously at all.





	Fairy Tail

Gerhard wandered into the inn with less a sense of eagerness so much as a vague sense of resignation. It was a wet, rainy night, and while the fortuitous appearance of an inn along the road meant he could get in out of the inclement weather and dry off, it meant the same thing for every other traveler along the road as well. If Gerhard had been fond of people and crowds he’d have stayed in the city he’d grown up in instead of becoming a wandering mercenary.

His expectations were, unfortunately, not at all dashed. The tables were already loaded with travelers who were warming themselves with copious amounts of alcohol and meat of questionable provenance. The keeper was busy behind the bar, struggling to keep the frazzled maids supplied in refills, and had no time to discuss if there were any rooms left to let. In the end he found himself having to briefly wrest the innkeeper’s wife away from screaming through the doorway into the kitchen in order to determine there was, in fact, still space for him to lock away his gear and get some sleep.

Fortunately for him, the rain only got worse as he settled in for a well deserved rest. While that little note might have spelled a good deal of discomfort for other travelers still out in the weather, the steady pounding sound on the roof washed out many of the boisterous noises from the common room, allowing him to quickly drop off into a pleasant slumber.

So far, all of this was perfectly to expectation. Just as he had believed would be the case, the inn had, in fact, been crowded. Being crowded, it had been quite noisy. And being quite noisy it had not been a place he’d particularly desired to remain awake for.

He wasn’t fully certain that he had wound up awake, however. As he sat eating a quiet breakfast in the common room the next morning (while most of the other guests were sleeping off bad beer and worse dog meat), his eyes fell upon a sight that left him questioning whether or not he was, in fact, still asleep. He pulled aside a young man, probably the son of the innkeep, and gestured to the end of the bar.

“Is that a fairy?”

The young man looked to where Gerhard gestured. There, a foot in length from blond hair covered head to slipper covered feet, was a female fairy. Her wings were spread out behind her as she sat back against an abandoned stein from the night before. She was relaxed, using a toothpick to spear a chunk of bacon off of the platter beside her, and leaning over to sip from a milk saucer with some sort of liquid in it.

“Yup,” he responded. “That’s Blossom. No one knows what her real name is. It’s just what we call her.”

Gerhard stared. “She comes here often?”

“Comes here?” The man chuckled. “Naw. She lives here. Has for the past four or five months now. She earns her keep, not that a little bit like that takes much keeping.”

Gerhard grunted. “How?”

The young man laughed then, and not a pleasant laugh. More a conspiratorial sort of snicker that implied secrets best left unmentioned. “Go ask her yourself, if you’re that curious.”

“Might be I will,” Gerhart grumbled. He finished the pile of eggs on his plate and most of the ham, then washed it down with watered ale before rising. Grabbing the remaining bit of ham he strolled over to the bar and sat down at the end, setting the bit of meat down on the platter beside the fairy girl.

She was looking up at him expectantly. Her expression wasn’t quite neutral, there was a bit too much curiosity for that. But she neither rose to greet him, nor spoke a word of reproach. She simply waited, watching as he set the bit of ham down.

Gerhard gestured over his shoulder towards the stable boy’s retreating back. “Lad said you live here.”

“Yep,” she replied. Her voice was very high, but still clear and, surprisingly, not unpleasant to listen to.

“And earn your keep.”

She eyed the small slice of ham. “I’m interested in more than a slice of pig, bigg’un,” she commented.

“Pardon?”

She rose then, her pace unhurried. Upon achieving the vertical she casually dusted off her butt, then turned to stand right in front of the mercenary, legs spread and hands on her hips.

“Gold, bigg’un! I’m interested in gold.”

He lowered his head a bit, attempting to look at her on somewhat more of a level plane. The height of the bar helped in this, but he still felt a bit hunched. “For what?”

“I’m going to build myself a mansion of gold and silver, with diamond windows.”

Gerhard felt his eyebrows rise at that. “Ambitious, but that’s not what I meant.”

She huffed then, drawing her legs together and putting one hand behind her back as she gave an embarrassed laugh. “Oh. Barry didn’t tell you.”

“He said to ask you.”

“Of course he did. That boy is full of himself.” She shook her head. “I’m a strumpet.”

“A what?”

“Tart.”

“Come again?”

“Floozy. Harlot. Trollop. Moll. Wench. Seamstr”

“I know what a strumpet is.”

She laughed. “I never doubted you did.”

“What I don’t know,” he rumbled, “is how those terms could possibly apply to you. You’re smaller than my forearm.”

She smirked. “Finding out will cost you a couple of gold pieces.”

He stared at her, then snorted.

“Fine.” He fished out a couple of gold coins the size of his thumbnail and set them on the bar beside Blossom’s foot. She looked down at them, nudging them with her foot, then nodded back to him with a smile.

With a flick of her wings she took off into the air, above the coins, and moved to hover above the level of Gerhart’s eyes. “This way,” she said, and began flying towards the back staircase.

“Aren’t you going to grab the coins?” Gerhart asked.

“They aren’t going anywhere,” he heard the tiny voice call back. “Quit stalling. You’re going to enjoy this.”

Shrugging, he rose. “Somehow I suspect what I am actually going to do is feel like a prize fool for falling for some sort of sylvan prank.” He turned to climb the staircase the fairy had just flown up.

At the top he discovered a small set of rooms, separate from those of the guests who rented space. A snore from down the hallway was likely that of the innkeeper, recovering from his night of tending to the inn’s guests. Two additional doors showed frequent use, likely by the innkeeper’s children, such as Barry, who were probably tending to the morning needs of the place already. One door, however, was ajar, and had no indications that it saw frequent use.

Blossom was already inside, hovering, her arms on her hips again. “Shut the door behind you, will you? The innkeeper lets me use this one, but doesn’t like being disturbed.”

Arching an eyebrow, Gerhart did as she said, softly latching the door shut. When he turned back from this task, Blossom was already shucking the layers of tissue like clothing she had been wearing.

He couldn’t help but lean in close and watch. She was the first of this small, rare folk he’d ever met, and his curiosity had an opportunity to go into a bit of a case of overdrive with her disrobing.

She was shockingly female, he determined. As she bent over to remove her feet from the thin cloth of her hose, He took advantage of the pose, ducking his face in close to give her sufficient examination to determine that she had the same anatomy as any other woman, even down to little flaps of skin slipping out from beneath larger, fuller lower lips. It was simply that everything was on a scale to her.

She spun around, giving him a slightly cross look, hands on her hips and legs braced apart despite her being in mid air. “Of course I have all of those bits,” she snapped, having seen his close examination. “Fairies are born in the same way as you bigg’uns. Which means we have to have all the same parts.”

He stood back upright, crossing his own arms. “There’s no way I’ll fit inside that.”

“Of course you won’t,” she replied, flying back up to his eye level, arms crossed beneath her tiny, but very feminine breasts. “Now drop the drawers, bigg’un.”

He felt an untrusting scowl quirk one side of his lips upward.

“Hey,” Blossom leaned forward a bit and her hands returned to her hips. “You saw mine, now you show yours.”

He felt a surprised laugh escape him, more from the sheer audacity of a one foot tall snip of a girl actually sounding indignant about not seeing his dick. He smirked, and unbuttoned his fly, letting his trousers drop, then turned to unknotting his smallclothes. In a mere moment he was free to let his member flop out for inspection.

She flew down, giving it just as much of an inspection as he’d given her cunny, flitting about to view it from several angles. He felt bemused by the experience, as she seemed to be sizing it up more like one would a tree that had fallen across the road than like the phallus of a stranger she was about to have some sort of sex with. Still, he stood patiently until she nodded and gestured to a chair next to a table.

“Have a seat.”

He did so, and watched as Blossom lit on the table beside him. She leaned against a jar, a naked cross between a butterfly and a woman, and gave it a knock with her knuckles. “Do me a favor and open this, would you?”

Again his eyebrow popped up, but he reached over to pull the cloth off of the top and wiggled the large cork stopper free. These he set aside while she waited, supervising his work.

“Thank you,” she said, as polite as could be, and then she hopped up and over the lip of the jar, dropping inside.

He heard a slight splat sound, like one would expect if one had dropped a decent sized stone into a thick mud puddle. He leaned over to look inside, and saw Blossom literally wallowing in  a thick, greenish substance.

“What is that?”

She popped her head up, the only bit of her not to now be glopped with the stuff. “Olive oil.” She pulled herself out of the jar and slipped with a splat to the table top, creating a small pool of the stuff as it ran off her body. “It’s wonderful stuff for the skin.” She carefully rose and minced over to the edge of the table, then dove at his lap, landing on his thigh with a wet slapping sound. “It’s not so good for the flight characteristics of the wings though.”

“Uh…”

Before he could ask any further questions, she skidded down his inner thigh and collided full body with his cock. Her slight frame being as small as it was, he suffered no injury from this collision, but he was surprised enough to twitch a little, causing her to lose what purchase she had with her oil soaked feet, and she dropped onto his half-flaccid meat like a farmer catching a reluctant pig.

“That wasn’t my most graceful capture,” she muttered, her voice quiet enough for him to almost miss it. “But it will do nicely.”

With that pronouncement she shifted one leg over him like she was trying to mount a small pony, then lay forward. He could feel the small mounds of fairy-scaled tits pressing down against the top of his shaft, feel her miniature thighs straddling him, and then her feet came back and pressed against his abdomen just above where floppy meat connected with hairy belly. She pushed herself upward, her entire body sliding along his cock as her arms went around it and tiny hands gripped the small, sensitive flesh right at the underside of the helmet that capped him.She slipped forward far enough for her chest, then belly to curl over the tip, flowing down with gravity and curling so that even as her thighs stretched out along the suddenly expanding length of him her upper body was slipping back the other direction, half way beneath it. With one last push her thighs and groin slipped over the end of him, and even though he knew it was really too small for it to be true, for the slightest moments he would have sworn he felt her oiled labial lips kissing the tip.

She rolled and flopped a second on his thigh, then looked up with a shockingly large grin on her face. “Well?”

He stared down at her. That had felt… surprising. It was the only word he could give it. It certainly hadn’t felt like shoving into a perfectly ordinary human woman. That was all heat and wet and presence. This had been light and feathery. But it hadn’t been like the gentle caress of a woman’s hand, which became tacky and rough all too quickly, either. And it was definitely far, far from his own stubborn, rough handling of things when the blasted thing wouldn’t settle down and let him sleep while out on the road. It was like nothing he had ever experienced.

But it had felt rather good, and he could visibly see his cock sliding forward and hardening after just the one stroke. She was still twice the length of it herself, when stretched out, but it still made a bizarre picture, the olive oil dripping from her and glistening on her body, as well as streaking his own skin and puddling slightly along his groin before running down between his legs. He blinked, then realized he was holding his breath.

“That was different,” he mumbled.

She softened her grin to a surprisingly tender smile, then squirmed her way back atop him again. This time she sat upright, and began rocking her hips back and forth, slipping back and forth atop him. It wasn’t quite as good as the full body thing she had first lubed him up using, but it was still a rather pleasant sensation, and it seemed to definitely have an effect on more than just him. He could hear her quick, high pitched breathing as she ground her groin against him, and he realized that she was, in fact, rather enjoying herself.

Pretty soon she dropped back down again, and resumed her full-bodied slide along him. This time, though, as she slid and curled around the tip, she simply pulled herself back atop, sliding along so that she was now facing down him rather than up. He found himself quickly heating up, the feeling improving with each stroke, and leaving him a bit more wound up with each pass. She curled about him, using her flexibility to wrap around and wrythe on him like some sort of erotic, feminine snake, and he soon found his breath speeding up into the panting gasps and groans that were his response to sex.

He had walked into the room convinced he had volunteered himself into being the victim of some particularly perverse joke. Now, his prick throbbing beneath the ministrations of a slippery foot tall girl, he was utterly convinced that the sheer weirdness of the situation was only making it easier for him to climb towards the inevitable. To be truthful, he began to worry that he was, in fact, going to embarrass himself by having precious little stamina to impress her with.

As if sensing this concern, and feeling a desire to not let him be so embarrassed, she brought him to the point he was starting to gulp down air and grit his teeth against the need to come to completion, then sat back up and returned to her pleasuring herself against him while the pressure and strain receded. She continued that for nearly a minute, until he felt a curious jerking atop his cock, and looked down to realize that she was, in fact, bucking in a climax of her own.

He was about to speak, when she flopped back down. He heard her little voice utter a pleased sigh, and then she squirmed atop him, beginning the shimmying wrestling with his cock that brought greater stimulation to him than the moves that had brought her to her orgasm. Again, she brought him near to the edge, then stopped to, once more, turn to her own needs and pleasure while she gave him time to slip back from the end of things.

He had no idea if it was mere moments, or a substantial length of time with her repeating this cycle, before he realized that this time there was a change. She was still wallowing atop him with her oily body, still gripping his cock with her hand and pushing with her feet to slide over the tip of him and rub her tiny little pussy across his own opening. But this time there was a haste to it, an urgency, and he realized that this time she had no intentions of letting him avoid tumbling over the edge.

He groaned, and just the thought of her pushing him towards the deed nearly did the job for her. But he grit his teeth, trying to hold back as he suddenly realized one final perversity to what was happening. Even as he felt himself begin the tumbling slide past the point he could have stopped things he jerked a hand down to try to grab her and pull her away.

Quick as a snake, she dodged away from the grab, curling herself beneath as he began to throb and jerk up and down, then, just as that action began to yield results, she squirted out from beneath and curled around the tip, squirming.

The blast caught her right in her slippery midriff, and proceeded to make a considerable mess of everything. It squirted out from where her stomach was pressed against the erupting tip of his dick, splattering into his hair and onto his skin, as well as thoroughly coating her chest, thighs, and squeezing up to congeal against the lower portions of her face.

He tried removing her again, only for her to slap at his incoming hand. Of course, her precarious, oil slick grip having already been worsened by the addition of fresh new lubrication, the release of one hand was enough to cause the rest of her cling to come undone, and as his hips gave an involuntary twitch to accompany yet another, somewhat lessened ejaculation, she popped backward to land up near his knees in a sodden and thoroughly disturbing mess.

He moaned and groaned as the last of the urges subsided and peace returned to replace the thunder in his ears. He drew in a shuddering breath, then looked down at the disaster laying on his legs.

“Blossom?” He asked hesitantly.

She surprised him by laughing, then sitting up, shaking her arms to try to clear at least some of the slime coating them. “Whoo, what a ride!” she squeaked, sounding entirely too delighted.

He felt his jaw agape, and closed it with an audible clomp. He stared at her, then shook his attention free from his inability to quite understand her gleeful reaction to having been basically buried in cum. He glanced over to the table and found a towel, then drug it over and held it down to her.

“Thank you, Bigg’un, but not yet.” She shook her head, flopping the ends of her hair around to splat against the skin of her chest and slide soddenly down her breasts. “But if you could pick me up and put me in the basin on the table?”

He glanced over to see the full washbasin at the other end of the small table, then reached down to carefully pick her up. He set her inside the water, then immediately moved his hands to the opposite side of the basin to wash the collected fluids and goo off while he watched her settle in and begin scrubbing and scraping herself free as well.

“Thanks, Bigg’un!” she laughed, then splashed the water about with her legs in clear glee.

“I don’t get it,” Gerhart rumbled as he grabbed a spare cloth he’d found on the floor and used it to begin cleaning himself. He was already getting cold and sticky, and the longer he waited to deal with it, the worse it would get. He distracted himself from that sensation by continuing to speak. “You basically just got completely…” he stumbled, not sure what word he wanted to use.

“Covered in spunk,” Blossom supplied.

“Yeah,” he agreed, feeling a bit shocked at her candor. “But you’re acting like you just had the time of your life.”

“Sure,” she responded, waving towards him casually with one hand as the other worked at scrubbing between her legs. “First, we little folk like to get off just as much as you bigg’uns do, and I managed it four times. That’s a personal best, by the way, so feel proud of yourself. But there’s also the sport of it!”

“Sport.” He stared at the bowl and its diminutive bather.

“Sure! I was down in the southern deserts, checking out you bigg’uns. I’ve always had a fascination with you that most of my kind find strange. Anyway, while I was there, I watched the craziest sport. You bigg’uns were strapping yourselves to the backs of big bulls, getting them angry, and then seeing who could hang on for dear life the longest! It looked fun to me.”

“Wait…” He leaned in, his eyes narrowed. “Did you just compare bodyfucking my dick to bullriding?”

She laughed and stared straight up at him, unconcerned. “Well, I did throw in wrestling moves I learned as a squib. But yes.”

He stared, then felt a surprised snort burst out of him. This turned into a chuckle, and then rammed its way into a downhill avalanche of pure guffaws. “You wrestled and bucked my dick?”

“Sure did,” she smirked, washing her ankles. “Hey, when you’re done trying not to fall out of the chair, can you get that towel ready? It’ll take a bit of care to dry my wings.”

Gerhart strolled on down the road an hour later. He wasn’t sure he would be back that way any time soon. A mercenary’s life was rather hard to plan for. He also wasn’t sure anyone would ever believe him when he told them he’d fucked a fairy. But he did know two things for certain. The first that it was well worth the two gold he’d paid her. And the second was that, if he did make it back this way, he’d definitely be looking her up again.

**Author's Note:**

> What... what the hell just happened?


End file.
